Tuesday, August 04, 2009


I don't recall when I started to have this deep appreciation for old things.

My mother always says I like all the old stuff and I refuse to let her throw out dad's old kettle from his university days, his old blood donor card, an ceramic electric jug mum had when she was studying in Melbourne, a 1970s art-glass vase I recall adorning the shelf in our old house and the list just goes on. I've also "called" the 2 1960s teak armchairs that her sister, Kennie gave her all those years ago when Kennie moved overseas, and the old Singer treadle sewing machine which mum still sews her clothes on. And I've been promised dad's old Rolex watch which is all scratched and blurry.

And so this "Indian Market" we went to in Penang was just another trip down nostalgic lane as such markets no longer exist where I live and the colours, sights, sounds and smells were just lovely to take in.

Whether it is a yearning for the days long gone because of the memories associated, the missing of loved ones long passed on, or a love for the simplicity of a time when things were uncomplicated, I do not know. Maybe it is a combination of everything.

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